


My Experience With a Murderer

by MrLesleyChoyce



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, knifes, sandwhiches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrLesleyChoyce/pseuds/MrLesleyChoyce
Summary: A true and terrifying story from my childhood. Yes this actually happened, I'm not lying.
Kudos: 1





	My Experience With a Murderer

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was 11 and on the school bus, please be nice.

You are walking home from a place that you were at. You come across an alleyway, it’s a shortcut so you turn and walk into it. A murderer then pulls you into his house, he offers you a chair, so you sit in it to claim it as your own. The murderer walks over to a lone toaster sitting on a counter and grabs four squished pieces of bread from his pocket. The murderer sets down two of the pieces and proceeds to squish the other two slices together and stuff them into one of the two slots in the toaster. He then repeats the process with the remaining slices and turns the toaster on. After a few awkwardly silent minutes of avoiding eye contact, the toaster pops, startling both of you.

The murderer then walks over to an open fridge you haven’t noticed until now. You get a glimpse of what’s inside. The fridge is mostly empty aside from a container of spaghetti, a mostly full bottle of ketchup, a stick of butter, and a half-empty bag of mustard. You’re confused as to why the mustard is in a bag but think it’s cool anyways. The murderer only takes the butter and walks back over to the toaster. He then proceeds to take a knife out of what you can only assume to be his inventory space. You worry a bit because he is a murderer, and a murderer with a knife is never a good sign, but your worry depletes once he slides the knife underneath the butter block and scoops it up, putting an equal amount on each half-burnt pieces of bread he had taken out of the toaster without you noticing. Once the butter melted, he stuck each piece of bread back into the toaster the same way it was, but with the unburned sides facing outward.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, the toast pops once more, again making you both jump. The murderer takes the now fully burnt bread out of the toaster and throws the knife into a toilet that looked very out of place. He once again walks up to the fridge, this time emptying it of its remaining contents, bringing them over to the counter. The murderer empties the three containers onto the slices of charcoal in front of him, throwing the empty containers aside. He swishes the tainted bread together to create two grotesque, vaguely sandwhich-looking things with the ingredients falling from the sides.

The murderer takes both of the “sandwiches” in his hands and walks over to you, offering one. You have no interest in getting murdered today, so you take it and smile nervously before taking a big bite. Your face contorts into one of disgust, but you force the horrid combination of edibles down your throat, trying with all your might not to let it come back up. The murderer on the other hand, seems to be enjoying the food monstrosity he had created.

After both of you have finished eating, the murderer pulls you out of your chair and throws you back into the alleyway he took you from. He thanks you for coming and waves you off before slamming the door. You make your way home more confused than you have ever been and flop down onto your bed as soon as you get there, passing out before you can even take off your shoes.


End file.
